love was a country we couldn't defend, thorn

[prayer]

She burns where he touches her. But it is the most brilliant glow. It is different than the warmth that festered in her gut when her mother pressed kisses to her head, murmured kind nothings in her ear. How strange it is to be set ablaze for the very first time. It makes the tiny heart swell in her breast and the smile deepens until her cheeks ache with it. She cannot help the flutter of her pulse or the way she tilts her head and reaches for him as he skitters away. But there is nothing but the negative space that he wedges between them and maybe there is some small part of her that feels foolish for even trying. Still, she smiles. Because she’s on fire. And she glances over her shoulder at the river’s edge and considers it a long moment before she drags her focus back to his face. Expectant. Something that would be just as easy to fall into, she thinks. She takes a step toward him, lowers her voice as if sharing a secret. There is some glint in her eye, though there is nothing malicious or even mischievous about it. “I was wondering where it would take me if I let it,” she whispers. She turns then, angles herself so that they are side-by-side and turns her gaze back to the river. “It seems so hungry,” she murmurs, still grinning, “doesn’t it?” p r a y e r